


Prodigal Son

by arielf17



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Police, Artist Steve Rogers, Assassins & Hitmen, Bar Owner Clint Barton, Character Death, Childhood Friends, Coming Out, Cop Bucky Barnes, Cop Natasha Romanov, F/M, Getting Together, Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Married Couple, Minor Character Death, Murder, Murder Mystery, Mutual Pining, POV Multiple, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Secret Marriage
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:14:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24004912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arielf17/pseuds/arielf17
Summary: NYPD detective and army veteran James "Bucky" Barnes resists telling his army friends about his husband, Steve Rogers. Bucky's plans to come out to his friends are accelerated when his next homicide case hits a little too close to home.
Relationships: Abraham Erskine & Steve Rogers, Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov, Clint Barton & Steve Rogers, Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov, Howling Commandos & Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes & Abraham Erskine, James "Bucky" Barnes & Clint Barton, James "Bucky" Barnes & Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov, James "Bucky" Barnes & Howling Commandos, James "Bucky" Barnes & Natasha Romanov, James "Bucky" Barnes & Peggy Carter, James "Bucky" Barnes & Rebecca Barnes Proctor, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, Peggy Carter & Steve Rogers, Rebecca Barnes Proctor & Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers & Tony Stark
Comments: 3
Kudos: 80





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> welcome to prodigal son! stucky & clintasha murder mystery with enough fluff to get me through the hitmen because I am a soft bean. updates mondays.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve seeks advice, Bucky catches a new case.

**punk**

_ hey baby, you gonna be home in time to cook me dinner? _

**jerk**

_ sure thing, sweetheart. chicken parmesan?  _

**punk**

_ perfect. see you at home, love you.  _

**jerk**

_ love you too.  _

#

“Who’re you texting, Barnes?” 

Bucky locked his phone and tucked it into his pocket. Detective Natasha Romanoff was raising an eyebrow at him. 

“None of your business, Romanoff.”

Bucky and Nat went way back. They’d been deployed together, and both ended up joining the force. Still, Bucky had never told anyone about Steve. He knew he should tell Nat, but he was still nervous. 

“Whatever, I’ll get it out of you. I’m going out to Clint’s for drinks after work, wanna come?” 

The  _ I’ve got a date with my fantastic husband of 8 years, Steven Grant Rogers, a wonderful artist who I love with all my heart  _ rose in Bucky’s throat, but sank just as fast. 

“I’ve got plans,” said Bucky. 

“Hot date?” asked Natasha. 

_ Yes,  _ thought Bucky,  _ the hottest date in existence. But I can’t tell you, because I’m gay and my disastrous first coming out has made me terrified to tell you, Natasha, one of my closest friends! WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME? _

“Something like that.”

When Bucky left work that day, he felt broken and ashamed. Not of Steve, Bucky could never be ashamed of Steve. No, Bucky was ashamed of himself. He knew Natasha, and that she wouldn’t be mad, and that she wasn’t homophobic, and that she would understand why he hadn’t told her, but the thought still terrified him. 

Bucky and Steve lived in an old brownstone in Brooklyn that they had bought once Bucky was back stateside. Brooklyn was home, and Bucky had spent a long time away from home. 

“Stevie, I’m home!” 

Steve was standing in their living room, wearing an old t-shirt of Bucky’s with paint smeared on it. His face lit up. He ran over and hugged Bucky. Bucky held on tight and carried Steve deeper into the living room. He set Steve down and tried to keep the sorrow out of his smile. 

“Why the long face, Buck?” asked Steve. 

Bucky should’ve known he wouldn’t have been able to hide from Steve. 

“I want to come out to Nat, but I chicken out every single time I try. I just don’t know what’s wrong with me.” 

“There’s nothing wrong with you, Buck. I know how badly you got hurt, I was there. I’ve known you my whole life, and I promised to keep knowing you for the rest of my life. I’m even prouder to call you mine with each passing day. Tell your friends when you’re ready. No one worthwhile will shame you for waiting.” 

Bucky kissed his husband, with all the ferocious generosity he’d always had towards the man. 

“Hell of a speech, Rogers.” 

“Hell of a kiss, Barnes. Now get in the kitchen.”

“Yes, sir.” 

Steve playfully slapped Bucky’s ass as the latter walked into the kitchen.

#

“I mean, it doesn’t make any sense. Hit me.” 

Clint slid Natasha another shot of vodka. She slammed it, somehow not falling off the barstool. 

“I know he’s married, he could just say that. Like he’s got a wedding ring threaded in with his dog tags, so he definitely knows that I know. Hit me.” 

Clint served Natasha another shot, thinking that even though he owned the place he was still not getting paid enough for this. 

“We’re friends. More than friends. Best friends. Hit me.” 

“I thought I was your best friend,” said Clint, dutifully pouring out another shot. 

“We can’t be best friends,” said Natasha, “I’m in love with you.” 

Natasha giggled and reached for the shot. Clint took it away and drank it. Once Natasha started saying shit like that, it was time to cut her off. 

“Clint, no, please, gimme some more, I love you.”

“This gets less funny every time,” sighed Clint, “hey Wanda, could you mind the bar for an hour or so?” 

“Did Natalia confess her undying love again?” asked Wanda, chuckling. 

Clint walked around the side of the bar towards where Natasha was sitting. 

“Come on, Tasha. Time to get you home.”

Natasha wrapped her arms around Clint’s neck. 

“Alright, Clint. Go ahead and take me home.” 

Clint was a good guy, so instead of giving into the intense urge to kiss Natasha with every ounce of his being that had plagued him for the past twenty years, he awkwardly hauled her onto his back and carried her out of the bar. 

“You smell good,” said Natasha, burying her face in the crook of his neck. 

“Thanks, Nat.” 

“Kinda like sandalwood. And fabric softener.” 

“Good observation.” 

“It’s very sexy.” 

It was going to be a very long night.

#

Steve was worried. He had been worried for 26 years, but he was worried about something more specific. More specifically, he was worried about Bucky. 

Bucky was stressed. Steve knew that his husband had a stressful job, and that somebody had to do it. It was miles better than when Bucky was overseas, because he still got to see Bucky everyday, and Bucky got to see him everyday. 

Steve understood why Bucky was having trouble telling Natasha. She probably knew Bucky was married, because she was brilliant and Bucky had the subtlety of a freight train. Steve only knew Natasha through stories, but those stories spoke volumes. 

Bucky’s friends were larger than life, and that made Steve feel small. He couldn’t stand feeling that way, not when he had so much, not when his husband was in the same city and his paintings were selling and he was surrounded by people who loved him. 

Steve knew that his foster father, Abraham Erskine, would be home. He grabbed his keys and wallet and made his way to Abraham’s apartment. 

He knocked on the door, but there was no answer. Steve let himself in with his spare key, and immediately wished he hadn’t. 

Abraham was lying on the ground with a bullet wound in his chest. Steve didn’t scream, even though he wanted to. Anyone else would’ve called the police. And technically, Steve did. 

“Come on baby, pick up. Please,” whispered Steve. 

“Hey, what’s up?” asked Bucky. 

“I went over to Abe’s, and...Buck, he’s dead. I know I should’ve dialed 911, but I need you.” 

“Of course. I’m on my way. Just stay there, lock the door, and don’t let anyone in until I get there.” 

“Okay. I love you.”

“I love you too. Everything’s gonna be okay.” 

Steve hurried to shut and lock the door. He paced back and forth, trying his best not to look at Abe’s body.

#

“I love you too. Everything’s gonna be okay.” 

Natasha raised an eyebrow at James. 

“I’ll explain on the way, come on.” 

Natasha followed James. He had a serious way about him, just like always, but there was an undercurrent of something she couldn’t put her finger on. 

James started talking the second the two of them got in the car. 

“I want to start by saying I’m sorry, I should’ve told you, but I was scared.”

“James, what are you talking about?” 

“Go ahead and ask, Natasha. You know you want to.” 

The prompt meant that James was ready to talk. 

“Who were you on the phone with?” 

“My husband. His name’s Steve Rogers. We got married right before I shipped out. It’ll be 8 years this August.” 

Natasha braced herself against the side of the car as James took a sharp left a little too harshly. 

“That doesn’t explain why you’re driving like it’s the end of the world.”

“My parents kicked me out after I told them about me ‘n Steve and I moved in with him and his mom, Sarah. She passed away the year after that, and we moved in with our biology teacher, Mr. Erskine. He was our foster dad. He officiated our wedding.”

“What happened to him?” asked Natasha. 

“Steve just found him dead in his apartment.”

“Are you serious? James, why didn’t you call this in?”

“Please. I’m not having uniforms rile up my husband before I can ask him what happened. He is a five foot four asthmatic who used to get in street brawls for fun and then get mad at me for saving him from being beaten to death in a back alley.” 

Somehow, that all made perfect sense to Natasha. 

“They won’t let you work this case,” said Natasha. 

“If they try to stop me, I’ll have to carry Steve out of the precinct over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes to keep him from committing multiple felonies.” 

Natasha snorted. Of course James’s husband was a wily little rulebreaker with a righteous attitude. 

“You won’t be laughing when you meet him, that’s for damn sure.”

Natasha couldn’t help but smile. Her best friend was being open with her. Then she remembered that a man had been killed and she focused up. James led her into the apartment building. She could practically feel the anxiety coming off of him, until the very moment the two of them stopped in front of the door to what Natasha assumed was Erskine’s apartment. James rapped on the door three times. 

“Steve, it’s Bucky. Open up.” 

The man who swung the door open was petite, but he was lithe, he’d been in a fight or two judging by his crooked nose. He and James fell into a hug like two magnets slamming together. 

“I’m so sorry you were here all alone, baby,” said James. 

Steve looked up at James confusedly. 

“Steve, this is my partner, Natasha Romanoff. Natasha, this is my husband, Steve Rogers.” 

Steve turned to Natasha and she could see it. The bold set to his blue eyes and the worried twitch in his hands, confidence and terror. 

“I wish we could have met under different circumstances,” said Steve, “but it is a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance, Detective Romanoff.” 

“Um...call me Natasha. Or Nat. My friends call me Nat.” 

Steve nodded, then looked up at James. Apparently, the assholes could read each other’s minds. 

“I showed up at about two o’clock,” said Steve, ushering the two detectives into the apartment and locking the door behind them, “until then I was at home painting. When I knocked on the door, Abe didn’t answer, so I used my spare key, Bucky and I each have one, but no one else. He was lying right there with that gunshot wound and he was already dead. I haven’t touched anything else in the apartment since I arrived today.”

“Good work, Stevie. Nat’s gonna take you home while I call this in.”

“Buck, I’m not going anywhere.” 

“I don’t want you to be here when the officers get here, okay? It’s Abe. You have to go.” 

“It’s Abe. I have to stay.” 

Natasha could tell Steve was wearing James down. 

“Baby, I want you to stay out of this for as long as possible. Please.”

“I can’t stay out of it. He took us in after Ma died, and I found him. It’s too late, I’m involved. Nat can take me back to the station and get questioned or whatever. Don’t leave me out of this, Buck.” 

“You’re a punk,” sighed James, pulling his husband close. 

“Jerk.” 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha gets to know Steve, Bucky goes over a lead with Clint.

“He was just trying to protect you,” said Natasha, “this whole thing is gonna get worse before it gets better.” 

Out of all the things Natasha was expecting Steve to do, she wasn’t expecting him to laugh. 

“He’s always trying to protect me. He’s been doing it since the day I met him.” 

“How did you guys meet? James didn’t say.” 

“We went to preschool with this kid Johann. He shoved me off of the swing set. So I’m trying to fight this kid, and I’m little but I’m tough. All of a sudden Johann goes flying, and Bucky’s standing there. If I’da known I was gonna spend the rest of my life with him, I woulda thought of something cool to say.” 

“What did you say?”

“I had him on the ropes.” 

Natasha chuckled. Steve laughed along with her for a second, then he sobered up. 

“It’s gonna get worse before it gets better, huh?” asked Steve. 

“Yeah. It’s kinda comforting, in a way. I know what to expect because I never know what to expect.” 

“That’s probably why you and Bucky are good partners. He’s always trying to read the situation to get the best possible outcome. He doesn’t know how to shut off his brain. You strike me as someone who’s better at letting her thoughts come naturally and influence decisions in an instant. Bucky has a flowchart for when we want to get takeout.” 

“I’ve seen the digital version,” said Natasha, “Clint’s kind of hurt that his bar didn’t make the cut.” 

“Barton, right? He was deployed with you guys?”

“Yup. He bought the bar cheap after roughing up the mafia guys who owned it. Part of the deal was getting to keep the dog.” 

Steve laughed. 

“He sounds great. Abe would’ve liked him. Do you know what he always said his favorite thing about coming to the states was?”

“What?” 

“Cheeseburgers.” 

Natasha chuckled as she parked the car outside the police station. 

“Steve, I’m gonna ask you some things in there that-“

“I know. It’s gonna hurt, but it’s all to find out who killed Abe. I’ll do whatever it takes.” 

That statement was exactly what Natasha expected, the exact kind of bullheaded sense of justice that she’d come to appreciate in James. She knew her partner would do whatever it took, just like his husband would. 

As far as her misgivings about James’s mystery spouse were concerned, Steve Rogers was definitely worth the wait.

#

It was Clint’s day off. He had given himself the day off, and he looked forward to a day of watching Great British Bake Off with his dog, because by God, he had earned it. Apparently, Clint’s phone only rang on his day off. 

“It’s my day off, Barnes.” 

“I know it is. I need your help. I found a calling card at a crime scene that seems familiar but my memory ain’t what it used to be. Nat’s interviewing a witness and unis don’t recognize it.” 

“Come on over, I’ll take a look.” 

Clint didn’t thrive off of goals the way Natasha did. Clint wanted things, but they weren’t lofty things. He just wanted to pet his dog, run his bar, and be with his friends. The second Natasha had gotten back home, all she wanted to do was find purpose again. She’d found it on the force, but Clint had wondered why James had gone the same direction. 

When James arrived, Clint had only seen him look worse when they were both in the middle of nowhere getting shot at. Clint could read his clenched jaw and wide eyes. Somehow, this case was getting to James. 

“Dude,” said Clint. 

“Yeah, I know,” said James, walking into Clint’s apartment, “the victim, Abraham Erskine, he was my foster dad. Steve and I moved in with him after his mom died.” 

James sat down at the coffee table. 

“Who’s Steve?”

“My husband.” 

James slid the card across the table, and Clint decided to file away the whole “James has a husband thing” for later. The card was black with a white X. He flipped the card over and let it lay flat on the table. 

“There’s a blacklight on my bedside table. Hit the lights when you get back.” 

“Why is there a blacklight on your bedside table?” 

“Intellectual curiosity. I used it on Quill’s car. Thing lit up like a Jackson Pollock painting.”

James snorted and walked off. Clint really hoped he was wrong. Then again, it didn’t really matter. A man was still dead and James was still hurt because of it. The lights clicked off and James placed the blacklight in Clint’s hand. The letters that glowed in purple on the back of the card were exactly what Clint was afraid of. 

Crossbones. 

#

Steve was secretly glad when Natasha dropped him off at home. The other detectives creeped him out and he couldn’t introduce himself to his husband’s boss while he was being interviewed as a witness to a homicide. 

He was always glad to be home. Glad to belong somewhere, glad to feel something permanent. He didn’t know what he was going to do when Bucky got home. He didn’t know how Bucky was going to work the case. Bucky had always said that Abe was his real father, after the way his parents had treated him. Steve knew Bucky could get through it because he had the one thing that no other detective had. 

Bucky had Steve. 

#

**jerk**

_ I’ll be home late, me n nat are chasing down a lead.  _

**punk**

_ np honey. want me to wait up? _

**jerk**

_ don’t you dare. go the fuck to sleep, darling. love you _

**punk**

_ love you too  _

#

When Bucky got home, Steve was asleep on the couch. He was still wearing his painting shirt and jeans, and he was hanging off the couch a little bit. It was very clear that Steve had  _ tried _ to wait up after Bucky had told him to go the fuck to sleep. 

“Well, if you did what I asked, you wouldn’t be my Stevie, would you?” 

Bucky gathered Steve in his arms and carried him back to their bedroom. Steve stayed fast asleep as Bucky changed him into his pajamas. Steve was fiercely loyal to a Star Wars pajama set that Bucky had given him ten years ago. It was cute as fuck. 

With one arm slung over Steve’s midsection, Bucky tried his hardest not to think about crossbones. Internationally feared contract killers were not appropriate thoughts to have while lying in bed next to one’s husband. 

Bucky tried to think about something else, but there was too much to do. He had to solve Abe’s murder. Plan Abe’s funeral. Introduce Steve to Clint. Try not to combust at the first inaugural meeting of the Blond Dumbass Club. 

Abe’s funeral would be hard. Bucky wasn’t sure if his and Steve’s friends knew. He had been so caught up in the case that he hadn’t called Peggy, or Angie, or Tony. He had too much to do and not enough time to do it. 

“You’re waking me up with all your bellyaching.” 

“I...didn’t say anything.” 

“You didn’t have to,” chuckled Steve, “barring any further interference from the NYPD, I’m calling in the troops tomorrow to help with planning Abe’s memorial and other such nonsense. You don’t have to worry, baby. Now quit being a bitch and spoon me properly.” 

“I love you.” 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky briefs Captain Fury, Steve delegates.

By the time Bucky woke up, Steve was out of bed and Bucky smelled bacon. This made no sense, because Steve could not cook to save his life. Bucky trudged out of the bedroom and found that there were a bunch of people in his goddamn house. 

Jim and Gabe were in the kitchen making breakfast. Monty and Dum-Dum were cleaning up after Jim and Gabe while Steve and Dernier argued in French about something that probably wasn’t all that important. Tony, Peggy, and Angie were sitting on the sofa going through old photo albums. 

Peggy saw him first and ran over. She kissed Bucky’s cheek and hugged him. The second she let go, she smacked him upside the head, which Bucky had been expecting. 

“Good to see you too, Peggy,” he said. 

“I promise Peggy, I promise I’ll call you if anything important happens,” scolded Peggy. 

“I’ve been kinda busy working the case.” 

“You’re actually working the case? Fury let you?” 

“Fury doesn’t know. And once he does, I suspect he’ll try to take me off the case.” 

“Well, let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. Also, please inform your husband that arguing about Star Wars with Jacques in another language doesn’t make him any less of a nerd.” 

“Sure thing.” 

Bucky made his way to the kitchen, where Steve was in the middle of a tirade. 

“Oui, mais il doit payer le prix du sang, et-” 

  
“Morning, gorgeous. Carter says you’re a dork.” 

Steve whirled around to face Bucky and smirked. 

“Carter speaks Klingon and can shut the hell up. Hey.” 

Bucky kissed Steve. 

“I’ve gotta get to work, I’ll keep you posted. Love you.”

“Love you too,” said Steve, handing Bucky a bagel, “say hi to Nat from me.” 

“Will do.”

Bucky was halfway finished with the bagel by the time he was out the door. He hadn’t had time to talk to anyone besides Steve and Peggy, but he had to get to work. Once he and Nat knew a contract killer was involved, they knew where to go from there. 

Against his better judgement, Bucky hoped that Steve wouldn’t ask too many questions. The idea that someone had been hired to kill Abe was almost too horrible to think about. Abe was a teacher, and a retired one at that. He’d spent his entire adult life as a caretaker. 

The second he walked into the station, he was ushered into the captain’s office. Captain Fury only had one facial expression that Bucky had ever seen, which was a disappointed dad face. As it turns out, disappointed dad face is a lot scarier when the man in question only has one goddamn eye. 

“Barnes. You and Romanoff are on the Erskine case, correct?”

“That’s correct, sir.” 

“It’s come to my attention that there’s a slight conflict of interest. You’re Erskine’s next of kin, along with a Steve Rogers?” 

“Yes sir. Steve moved in with him after Steve’s mother passed away.”

“I don’t think it’s in your best interests to work this case, Detective.” 

“All due respect sir, but I could give a damn. Romanoff and I have already made progress. A calling card for Crossbones was found at the scene. We’re the only detectives that Rogers will talk to, and if we want to get this done quickly, he needs to cooperate. Sir, I’ve known Steve since birth and we’ve been married for 8 years. Cooperation with the authorities is not his strong suit.” 

“I noticed that the man does have an arrest record.” 

“Disturbing the peace, mostly, right? Also public urination, but that was technically my fault, I dared him to drink that jumbo milkshake.” 

Fury folded his hands together on top of his desk. 

“You and Romanoff are two of my best detectives, and I don’t want to impede your progress. That being said, when you find Crossbones, you need to keep your cool.” 

“Understood, sir.” 

“Good. Dismissed.”

“Yes, sir.” 

#

“Steve, are you sure you don’t want one of us to stay here for a few days? At least until after the case is solved,” said Tony. 

“We’ll be fine. I just need help pulling everything together while the case is still open so there’s less work for Bucky and I to do once he catches the guy.” 

“Okay, what do you need?” asked Angie. 

“Could you and Peggy find out what forms and permits we need and print them out or email them to me?” 

“Sure,” said Peggy. 

“Monty, Dum-Dum, could you talk to Arnie at the community center?” 

Monty and Dum-Dum nodded. 

“Gabe, Jacques, could you talk to Loki at the funeral home?”

“Yeah,” said Gabe, while Jacques winced. 

“Tony, you drew the short straw, you’re with me.” 

“Was there actually a drawing?” asked Tony. 

“No, you’re just the only one with a car that doesn’t fart. C’mon. Everybody, out of my house.” 

Steve ushered his friends out the door and climbed into the passenger seat of Tony’s car. 

“You really should lock this thing.” 

Tony snorted. 

“I’m Tony Stark. No one’s gonna steal my car. Except maybe your husband.” 

“Bucky likes nice cars. Becca lives 10 blocks west of here. Bucky wouldn’t have called her, he’s too keyed up.” 

Tony started to drive, and Steve tried not to look nervous, or like he was about to cry. 

“I know what it’s like, you know,” said Tony, “when everyone’s gone. I know it’s not your first time, but there’s a sense of finality here.” 

Steve looked over at Tony. Tony was probably one of the goofiest people Steve had ever met, but he had also lost both his parents while he was in college. Steve and Tony had traded miseries that year and become friends.

“Bucky cried when his parents died. I just sat there and held him while he sobbed, and he couldn’t stand his parents. Once this case is over, it’s all gonna hit him all at once.” 

“Yeah, it is,” said Tony, “but if I know anything about you two, it’s that you spend a lot of time trying to make it easier on the other guy, so by the time everything comes full circle it’s like Gift of the Magi or some shit. You always manage to worry about him exactly as much as he worries about you.” 

“Known each other 26 years, together for 12 of those and married for 8 of those...you pick things up.” 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky and Natasha interview a person of interest, Steve and Tony phone a friend.

“You gonna tell me where we’re going, Nat?” asked Bucky. 

“An old friend of Mr. Erskine’s from Germany came to town recently. A Dr. Arnim Zola. Do you know him?” 

“No,” said Bucky, “he...didn’t talk about Germany. Steve and I asked him once, but he just said it was all in the past. Why, how did Abe know Dr. Zola?” 

“Apparently, in his native Germany, your foster dad was a rather accomplished biochemist who worked with Dr. Zola, but I’m hitting a wall figuring out what kind of project they were working on. He’s staying with a local guy named Johann Schmidt who probably met Zola during a semester abroad.”

Bucky choked on his coffee. 

“Seriously? Johann Schmidt?” 

“Yeah,” said Natasha, “I’m guessing you know him.” 

“Yeah. Me and Steve met him when we were kids, had to kick the stuffing out of him a few times. What was he studying in his semester abroad, eugenics?” 

“His background’s in genetics so yeah, probably. Was he the guy from the playground that Steve told me about?” 

“Yes. He was expelled from junior high for being a fucking Nazi.” 

“You gonna pull it together?” asked Natasha. 

“Yeah. I just gotta get out all my hate right here in the car. Johann Schmidt is a disgusting trash person, he’s racist, he’s homophobic, he painted a swastika in the boy’s bathroom, and he trapped Steve in a dumpster.” 

“You sound the most upset about the last one.” 

“Steve’s asthmatic! He could’ve died in there! He might’ve if Peggy hadn’t seen and told a teacher. Sarah was so pissed. Schmidt might’ve never been expelled if she hadn’t personally escorted the principal to the gates of hell.” 

“Sarah?”

“Steve’s mom, Sarah.” 

Natasha pulled over in front of an apartment building that looked like it could have bought and sold every building on Bucky’s block. He prepared himself to face Schmidt again. He followed behind Natasha.   
Bucky knocked on the door. He bit his tongue a little bit, just to keep himself grounded. The man who answered the door was gaunt and creepy with dark hair and inhuman eyebrows. 

“I’m Detective Natasha Romanoff and this is my partner, Detective James Barnes.”

“I thought you looked familiar. How’ve you been?”

“We’re here on official business, Mr. Schmidt,” said Bucky, “we’re looking for Dr. Arnim Zola, we believe a person of interest may have contacted him.” 

“Of course, my bad. Come on in.” 

Bucky knew Schmidt was being polite so the hate speech hit harder later, that was how he worked. 

“Johann, who was at the door?” 

A bespectacled man walked into the living room. Bucky thought he kinda walked like a pervert, but he was going to keep that to himself. 

“These are police detectives, Dr. Zola,” said Schmidt. 

“Please,” said Dr. Zola, “have a seat, I am happy to help.” 

Bucky sat down on the sofa next to Natasha. 

“We’re looking for information on Abraham Erskine,” said Natasha. 

“Abraham...I read in the paper that he has passed. He didn’t have any family, you see. He was a friend. We worked together in Germany. I came here with the intention of speaking with him, although I don’t know what he wished to speak with me about.” 

“Do you think Mr. Erskine wanted to speak to you about your work?” asked Bucky.

“Perhaps,” said Dr. Zola, “we were working on a sort of medical procedure. I can ask one of my colleagues back home to send me some of our old files, if you think that would help?” 

“That would definitely help, Dr. Zola,” said Bucky, forcing a sad smile onto his face. 

“And we’re sorry we have to ask this, but where were you between 9AM and 2PM on Tuesday?” asked Natasha. 

Dr. Zola nodded somberly. 

“I went to the cinema with a colleague, George and I went to see a documentary on artificial intelligence. George Tarleton was a year or two behind me at university, we stayed in touch. I’m sure I have his contact lying around here somewhere.”   
#  
“Stevie!”

Becca Barnes lurched forward and hugged Steve. Steve smiled, savoring the normal moment before he broke the news to Becca. She pulled back and punched Steve in the arm. 

“Ow! I’m delicate!” 

Tony snorted. 

“Bull fucking shit,” laughed Becca, “you’re only small when you want to be.” 

Becca dramatically draped herself against the doorframe and put the back of her hand against her forehead. 

“You don’t write, you don’t visit, I’m beginning to feel neglected.” 

“Becks,” said Steve, “do you remember the bio teacher at Lehigh?” 

Becca rolled her eyes. 

“Of course I do. Abraham Erskine. He’s the one who helped get me to your wedding, remember? Also he gave me a B once.” 

“Rebecca. Abe’s dead. He was murdered.” 

Becca gave Steve another hug, but she was gentle and calm. 

“Steve, I’m so sorry. Is there anything I can do?” 

“Come over for dinner tonight? I don’t know how late Bucky’s gonna be, but he’ll want to see you.” 

“Of course.” 

Becca’s attention shifted to Tony. She held out her hand in a straight armed handshake. Tony shook her hand cautiously. 

“You must be Tony,” said Becca, “I’m Bucky’s little sister, Becca.” 

“Uh...nice to meet you?” 

Steve smirked. It was nice to see Tony stymied. But he had to get home. There was work to be done.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Tony meet a new friend, Bucky and Natasha discuss possibilities.

“So. Why do you think he’s full of shit?” asked Natasha. 

If it were any other case, Bucky would’ve smirked. Natasha knew he wouldn’t smile, not again for a long time, so she waited for his explanation. 

“Steve and I haven’t put an obituary in the paper. Besides, we were his family. But that’s all personal, doesn’t have anything to do with the case. What about you, why do you think he’s full of shit?” 

“George Tarleton,” said Natasha, reaching into her file cabinet, “arrested him a few times for trespassing. Luckily for him, Stark never pressed charges.”

“Tony Stark?” snorted Bucky. 

“Yeah.” 

“He practically pressed charges when I borrowed his car. There’s something else to that Tarleton thing.” 

Bucky pulled out his phone and called Tony. He reveled in Natasha’s unamused expression. He scrunched up his nose as he heard Tony’s answering machine. 

“Hello, this is Tony Stark, if you’re hearing this I’m either dead or I’ve fallen off the wagon, but go ahead and leave a message anyway.” 

“Hey Tony, it’s Bucky. Just checking in since this morning, make sure you got home safe. Call me back.”

Bucky turned towards Natasha, already calling Steve. 

“Tony always answers his phone,” he explained, “the last time he didn’t answer his phone me ‘n Peggy found him locked up in his lab. He hadn’t eaten in three days.” 

Bucky wiggled his nose back and forth as the phone rang. 

“This is Steve Rogers, leave a message after the tone.” 

Natasha caught Bucky’s phone when he dropped it. 

“James, what’s wrong?”

“Steve didn’t pick up either. He probably had our friends running errands this morning. If he left the house, he probably went to take care of something he thinks I can’t handle yet. That means the last place Steve and Tony were was probably my sister’s apartment.” 

“You think this has something to do with the case?” asked Natasha. 

“My foster dad is murdered and all of a sudden my husband and his college roommate don’t answer their phones for the first time since they got stranded in Montauk with a history major who made really terrible weed brownies? Yeah, I think it’s probably related.”

“Alright. Let’s go to your sister’s.” 

Bucky’s nerves got worse at a steady pace as he and Natasha got closer to Becca’s apartment. 

“I’m sure she’s okay, James. What’s her name?” 

“Becca. And you’re right, I’m sure she’s fine.” 

#

Tony woke up tied to a chair next to his college roommate who was also tied to a chair. 

“Steve, are you awake?” 

“No Tony, I’m wiggling around in this chair because I have a wedgie,” sassed Steve. 

“I’m never going anywhere with you ever again.” 

“Okay, so it’s my fault that we got kidnapped?”

“You’re the one who married a cop!”

“I did not marry a cop! I married Bucky, who later became a cop! I was minding my own goddamn business!” 

“HOW COME EVERY TIME YOU MIND YOUR OWN GODDAMN BUSINESS WE END UP STRANDED IN MONTAUK WITH SHITTY WEED BROWNIES?” 

“DO YOU SERIOUSLY THINK THAT PHIL COULSON ORCHESTRATED THIS KIDNAPPING?”

“MAYBE! HE’S CRAFTY!” 

A metallic creaking sound rang out. A light blinded Tony for a moment, then a man in a black mask entered the room. 

“I have some questions. You’re going to answer them.” 

“The voice modulator thing’s kinda played out,” said Tony, “but if you’re dead set on it, you might want to look into a model that doesn’t make you sound like you’re in a low budget Batman movie.” 

“Tony, for the love of God, shut up,” said Steve. 

“Steve Rogers. Before his passing, Abraham Erskine hid the missing piece from Project Rebirth. Where is it?” 

“Okay, shit-for-brains,” said Steve, “first of all, Abraham Erskine didn’t pass away. Someone, I’m guessing you, shot him. Second of all, even if I did know anything, I wouldn’t tell a tiny-dicked homicidal asshole.” 

Tony meant it. He was never going anywhere with Steve ever again. 


End file.
